


Not All Yet Mended

by chigaijin



Category: RWBY
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff and Angst, Gen, V5 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 19:24:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21325399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chigaijin/pseuds/chigaijin
Summary: Yang was accidentally a jerk towards Jaune. Blake goes to talk to him.Takes place between Volumes 5 and 6. Set a few days after Kiiratam’s “If We Shadows Have Offended”. I suggest reading that first.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	Not All Yet Mended

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [If We Shadows Have Offended](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20707190) by [Kiiratam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiiratam/pseuds/Kiiratam). 

It was early. The sun was peeking over the mountains, and most of the house was just getting up. The smell of coffee wafted through the kitchen, a collaboration and compromise between Weiss and Ruby’s uncle, of all people.

Ever since rejoining Team RWBY, Blake had been one of the early risers. She’d been forcing herself to do morning runs to stay in fighting shape—and with the scenery around Mistral as beautiful as it was, morning runs were hardly a chore. But today she had another task, one that involved the other regular early riser in the group. The one whose shouts rang out as he practiced his swings and parries; the one who had redoubled his self-imposed training regimen since the Battle of Haven.

“Jaune. Jaune!”

Jaune let out one more loud cry as he swept his sword forward, then stood there breathing heavily. Finally he lowered his arms and turned to face her. 

“Yes, Blake?”

Blake bit her lip. This was going to go horribly wrong, she could already tell. But at least it wasn’t _her_ who Jaune was mad at.

“It’s about Yang.” Jaune’s body tensed. She could see it even from the porch where she stood, watching him go through his morning training routine in their “backyard”. “About…that text message the other night.”

“Yeah?” His tone was flat, and he didn’t turn to look at her. “What about it?”

Blake felt her secondary ears flatten out. _If I still had my bow…_ She pressed her lips together to clear the thought.

“Blake?” Jaune’s voice already had a hint of accusation in it, but at least there was more color than before. That…might be good?

“It was an accident.” The words spilled from her mouth. “The text…it was a draft, from Beacon—the tower—”

“I know.”

“—she didn’t mean to tread on a happy memory—”

“I _know.”_

Blake pushed on. “Yang wanted to apologize.”

Jaune finally looked at her, a hard expression on his face. “Then why didn’t she come instead of you?”

The nervousness was getting washed away by annoyance. “Because you’ve been _avoiding_ her these last few days!”

“You found me easily enough,” Jaune scoffed. 

Blake put her fists on her hips. “Oh, like you wouldn’t have packed up if Yang had come out? She’s not stupid, you know.”

Jaune opened his mouth…and then closed it again, glaring at her. _Good._ “You can’t just run away from your problems,” she pressed.

“Well, you’d know something about that, now, wouldn’t you!” Jaune snapped back. 

Blake felt her mouth fall open, then a wave of fury came over her. “How dare you!”

“How dare _you!”_ Jaune reflected back.

_“Seriously!”_ Without thinking she took two steps forward before balling up her fists again. “I thought we were _friends,_ Jaune!”

“Oh really?” Jaune said mockingly. “What gave you that impression? We never talked, we’re not close. We only hung out as teams at Beacon.” He ticked his reasons off on his fingers as he spoke, waving the hand that still held his gold-trimmed sword. “Does that make us friends?”

“I _trusted_ you!” Blake responded, trying not to let the hurt show. “Team JNPR was the first—”

Her brain caught up with her a second later—_JNPR_—and she snapped her jaw shut. Her mind was whirling. _Right when I was trying to apologize for—but how _dare_ he—does he really not think of me as a friend—but—_

Jaune had turned to look away at the ground. He just looked tired.

“F-fine.” A quaver in her throat betrayed her. “Maybe we’re not friends. But you’re friends with Yang—” Jaune scoffed and Blake felt a flicker of anger again. “And she deserves better than this.”

“Do you know how much it hurts?” Jaune burst out again. Blake was tempted to tell him that yes, she did, did he really think she’d never lost anyone in the White Fang, lost Yang, almost lost her father? That or grab him and shake some sense into him.

She did neither. She consciously unclenched her hands, turned her palms out, away from her body. “This doesn’t have to be like this. If you just apologize to Yang—”

“If _I_ apologize to _Yang?!”_

Whoops. That had just slipped out. Jaune’s anger was back; she could see it in the set of his shoulders and the way he gripped his sword. Blake put her hands up. “I didn’t mean it like that!” she insisted. “It’s just, you hurt Yang, and—”

“_Yang_ hurt _me_,” Jaune ground out.

“I know!” Blake yelled back. “And she’s sorry!”

The two of them stood there, feet planted on the packed earth that served as their training ground. The sun was well above the mountains by now, but the morning air was still cool, a clear marker of autumn in its prime.

“You don’t get it, Blake,” Jaune said quietly. “I was the one who got hurt. But you’re making this about Yang.”

“I…” Blake closed her mouth. If she were listening to Jaune, really listening, she’d say… “You’re right. You’re right, Jaune.”

Jaune’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, and he looked down.

“But,” Blake continued. “You haven’t been handling this well either.”

She watched as Jaune went through the same cycle she just had: the rising indignation, then the catch-up in the brain and the admission to follow. He sighed, then looked at her and nodded. Didn’t seem to be able to say anything at the moment.

Blake suddenly felt shy. “Look, I…”

“Yeah,” Jaune interrupted. His tone was flat again, but this time Blake thought she had gotten through. Almost idly he collapsed his shield back to its sheath form and put his sword away.

“You’re not okay, Jaune,” she blurted. “Please, talk to Ruby. Or Ren and Nora, you know they would do anything for you, but _somebody._ Not just for you…but for the people you care about.”

She hadn’t even realized where she got those words until she said them. _Breathe. Breathe in, hold it, breathe out._

She started as she felt a hand on her arm, and looked up to see Jaune’s face, his mouth set in a hard line. He let it sit a moment, then released her and began walking back to the house. “I’ll talk to Yang.”

“Thank you,” Blake responded. She stared at the short fence at the edge of the yard.

“Blake.”

She turned, saw Jaune standing there uncomfortably, one hand behind his neck. “Yeah?”

“I-I should apologize.”

Blake stuck her hands in her pockets, not quite meeting his gaze. “No, you were right. I was going about this wrong.”

“Not that.” A sad smile came to his face. “For saying we weren’t friends.”

“Oh, I…” Blake didn’t know what to say to that, didn’t know what to name that sudden feeling rising in her chest—

_Relief._

“Thanks for being a friend, Blake,” Jaune finished. He let the smile linger for a moment, then slid open the door to head back inside.

Blake took a deep breath of the morning air. _That could have gone better…but in the end, I’m pretty sure it worked._

Pyrrha. Neither of them had said her name throughout the whole conversation. But…maybe that was okay? Blake wasn’t trying to be Jaune’s confidant. She just hoped he’d find someone who could be.

Hopefully Jaune and Yang’s conversation would go well. 

Hopefully Jaune would actually talk to someone about Pyrrha, the way the rest of them had been able to.

For now, Blake was content to gaze out over the mountains of Mistral, as the sun crept a little higher in the sky.


End file.
